


Other Days

by f0rever15elf



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Other, injury mention, sad!javi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:56:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28997877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f0rever15elf/pseuds/f0rever15elf
Summary: You comfort Javi after a particularly bad day at work
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader, Javier Peña/You
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	Other Days

Colombia is a cruel mistress to all those under the jurisdiction of the DEA. Even mere association with the organization or any of its members puts a target on your back. It’s a heavy weight to carry, knowing that there are eyes everywhere, and that if one stray word makes it back to Escobar, you and anyone close to you could be the next names added to the ever expanding list of lives lost to the drug lord. And no one carries that weight with more solemnity than Javier Peña.

Javier knows exactly how many lives he holds in his hands, how many people are at risk because he’s used them for intel or dared to care for them. And it weighs on him. Every day his shoulders slump a little lower, caving under the gravity of what he is doing. It’s a race against time. Escobar is the cancer and Javier’s methods are the chemo, and he prays every day to whatever deity will listen that he can take down Escobar before Javier takes down everyone else with him.

Some days are easier than others. A break in the case sends him home to you in good spirits, a smile on his face even as he wraps his arms around you to press a searing kiss to your lips. Other days… other days are not so easy. Other days, the loss is terrible and the weight is soul crushing and he walks right past you when he gets home, grabbing the whiskey bottle on his way to the bathroom. The only sounds to follow are that of the locking door and the quiet cries that he refuses to let you see, only to stumble to bed drunk out of his mind with red and swollen eyes. And it breaks your heart.

Today… Today is a bad day.

The sound of the door shutting echoes through the apartment, but Javier doesn’t call for you as he normally does. Your brow furrows and you make your way out of the kitchen to see Javi at the doorway, leaning against the thin piece of wood that separates you from the horrors that he sees every day. His eyes are downcast, staring at the ground, and you can tell from how hunched in on himself he looks that something today went very, very wrong.

You make your way to him, reaching out to take his bruised hand in yours, and it is only then that he looks up at you, his eyes empty and dull and your heart breaks for him. You tilt your head just enough to send an unspoken question and Javi shakes his own in response. No talking tonight, he doesn’t have the energy.

Gently, so as to be careful of his wounds, you tug on his hand, making him stand away from the door before you help him out of his jacket. He doesn’t resist, letting you move him around like some human sized rag doll. Once his coat is hung, you take his hand again, leading him towards the bedroom. He follows silently hesitating only for a moment when his eyes fall on the half-drank bottle of whiskey on the counter, but with a gentle tug on his hand, he forgets it, following you instead to the bed where you sit him down. His hands lay in his lap as he watches you kneel before him, something that under any other circumstance would have him spewing all sorts of filth from his beautiful lips, but tonight he simply watches as you ease him out of his boots, setting them neatly aside before removing his socks.

When you stand again, hands moving to undo the buttons on his shirt, he opens his mouth to say something, but the words die on his lips. You bring a hand up to cup his cheek gently after the attempt, running a thumb along his cheekbone to soothe him as you give him a tender smile before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. As you pull away, he keeps his eyes closed, reveling in your touch on his skin. It’s the most tender thing he’s felt all day, and he needs it as much as he needs the air that he struggles to take into his lungs. And you let him have it for a few moments longer before resuming your mission of removing his shirt. You know he prefers it off when he rests, the heat of Colombia suffocating. 

Eventually, you have all the buttons undone and slowly push the fabric from his shoulders, doing your best to maintain contact with his skin the whole time until you discard it on the floor. Bruises are already beginning to bloom under his skin, and you’re certain it has to do with whatever happened today, but you don’t mention it, opting to maintain the silence punctuated only by the chatter of the Bogotá night outside your window.

For a moment, you’re still, keeping your hands on his shoulders as your fingertips apply the slightest pressure to the tense muscles there. He’s so tense all the time, you know he isn’t sleeping well. And to be honest… you aren’t entirely sure when the last time he slept well was.

You do your best to keep the frown off your face at the thought as you slowly run your hands along his shoulders to his neck, fingertips rubbing at the muscles there at the junction. Javier’s eyes slip closed at the feeling and he makes a low rumbling sound in his chest. It makes you smile as you work before continuing to run your hands up his neck and into his hair. This draws a soft moan from him as you begin to card your hands through the thick, shaggy hair atop his head. He’s overdue for a haircut, and it’s starting to show, the ends of his hair curling slightly and his bangs beginning to fall into his eyes. All the better to play with. Your fingers work in nonsensical patterns as you massage his scalp, alternating between gentle scratches and soft massaging, specifically at his temples and base of his skull. It doesn’t take long for him to tip forward, resting his forehead against your stomach as you work.

You allow him to rest there against you as your hands move from his hair back down to his shoulders, gentle touches soothing the ache of the day’s battering as they smooth over his skin. They continue their path, slowly traveling down his back, and you feel him shudder against you. Slowly, you slide them back up and over his shoulders, moving to his jaw so you can lift his face away from your stomach so you can see it. You brush the bangs gently from his face, offering him the softest smile you can, one so full of adoration that you hope it can pierce through the veil of anguish that followed him home today. When you see that flicker of light in his eyes as he gazes up at you, you know it has. You know you’re slowly bringing him back.

Softly, you lay another kiss upon his forehead before allowing your hands to travel back down his arms, taking his hands in your own. You pull back from him enough to bring his hands up to your face, kissing over each bruised and split knuckle before turning them over to kiss both palms. Javier had told you of the things he’s down with his hands, how ashamed some of those things make him feel, and how no matter how much he washes them, he can never seem to make the red on them go away. You wouldn’t let him feel that guilt tonight.

It’s only when he winces at the final kiss to his right hand that you pull away, carefully setting his hands in his lap. You kiss his cheek gently before holding up a finger to tell him to wait, turning to retrieve the med kit from the bathroom. When you return, he’s staring at his hands, at the bruised and split knuckles that he certainly didn’t leave home with this morning, and you know his mind is beginning to run away, back to the events of today.

Cautiously, you kneel in front of him, catching his eyes as you reach up to cup his cheek, trying to bring him back to you. His eyes are glassy, beginning to well with tears as his body begins to relax, and a gentle thumb brushes away one that threatens to spill over. When he gives you a subtle nod, you drop your hand, pulling the supplies from the med kit to clean the cuts, blowing on them gently to ease the sting of the antiseptic wipes before carefully wrapping them in bandages.

When you’re done, you run your fingers over the wrappings gently, glancing back up to gauge his reaction. His eyes still shine with unshed tears, and you know that what he needs is to let go. And so, you stand, discarding your own shirt before crawling into bed. He watches you the whole time, as if looking away would cause you to disappear from him.

When you hold your arms out to him, he doesn’t even hesitate, turning to lay in your arms. He drapes his own arm over your hip as he nuzzles against your chest, breathing you in as he tangles his legs with your own. Your hands begin moving across his skin once more, your gentle touches helping to wash away the day’s horrors as his body relaxes into your own. Just a little more now.

The tender kiss to the top of his head is all it takes to finally break the damn holding everything in. His body convulses, the sound of his sobs echoing through the apartment as he presses his face more firmly against your chest, his arm winding around you more tightly as he trembles in your hold. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath to keep yourself from crying as you hold him, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of his head, your hands never once stilling as you try to soothe his pain. He needs this, has needed it for a very long time, and so you let him have it.

“I’ve got you, _amor_. You’re safe now,” you whisper, the first words spoken since his arrival home, and it brings on a whole new wave of sobs. You bite your lip, squeezing your eyes shut as you center yourself again before continuing your gentle whispers to him, soothing and praising him, letting him know how much you love him.

You aren’t sure how long he lays there, crying in your arms, but eventually the cries begin to abate, tapering off to little hiccups and sighs as his tears finally run dry. He doesn’t move, keeping his body pressed against your own, so close you can feel his eyelashes brushing against your skin every time he blinks, but you make no attempt to move him. You know that here is where he feels safe, and you are not one to begrudge him that.

Eventually, one hand wanders up to play in his hair again, rubbing at the base of his skull, and he lets out a weary sounding sigh as he relaxes further against you. He’s fighting sleep, you can tell, and you wonder if he’s worried about the horrors of the day following him to sleep. “You need to rest, _amor_. I’ll be here the whole time, I promise.” You press another kiss to the top of his head to punctuate your statement, and he squeezes his arm around you in response.

“Yeah?” he rasps, not looking up at you, and your own body relaxes at finally hearing him speak.

“I promise,” you repeat, nuzzling against his hair. The silence is what meets you after that, Javier’s body finally completely relaxing as he lets himself succumb to the sleep he so desperately needs, there in your arms. “I’ll always be here for you,” you whisper when you feel his breathing even out against your skin. “Till the end of time.” 


End file.
